


Retribution

by RachaelGold



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Adventure, Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-06 23:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14658021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachaelGold/pseuds/RachaelGold
Summary: This is in some sense a sequel to the story Revelation, in which Chakotay had initially been in a troublesome marriage to Seven, but eventually finds happiness with Kathryn. This sequel is of a very different nature to the first story and tells of Seven's attempt to get revenge on Kathryn, Chakotay and their son.Setting: Thirteen years Post-Endgame





	Retribution

Chakotay flipped the receive button on his terminal. 

" _Ambassador Chakotay?_ " asked an anxious middle aged man. 

"Speaking." 

" _It's Starfleet Academy here. I'm afraid your son is not in afternoon lessons…nobody's seen him since lunchtime. Was there any reason for him to be out of school this afternoon?_ " 

"None at all. Are you telling me he's missing?" 

" _I'm afraid that seems to be the case. We've initiated a search, but so far it's turned up nothing._ " 

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" 

" _About 12.30._ " 

"Nearly two hours ago? Don't you have some sort of security system in place?" 

" _Yes, sir, we do. But we're not a prison. Students can walk in and out. Our computer hasn't registered him as leaving, so if he has left the building, he failed to register it._ " 

"Alexander is not the sort of boy who misses lessons." 

" _No, sir. We know that. We're treating this seriously…you and your wife are such eminent people after all. It may be something quite innocent, but we can't rule out the possibility that there could be something sinister going on here. That's why we've contacted the Fed. Police. We think you should come down and assist in the search._ " 

"I'll be right over." 

" _Thank you._ " 

Chakotay closed the line and headed for the turbo-lift. A moment's anxiety had been calmed by rational analysis. There could be any number of perfectly innocuous explanations for this. On the other hand.... He hit his comm badge. Kathryn needed to know. 

"Chakotay to Janeway." There was no response, so he repeated his request. After being met with silence, he tried her assistant. "Admiral Janeway's office, please." 

" _One moment…_ " 

" _Admiral Janeway's office. Lieutenant Roberts speaking._ " 

"Ambassador Chakotay, here. Patch me through to my wife, please. It's urgent." 

" _I'm afraid she's not in her office…she left suddenly about an hour ago. She didn't tell us where she was going…_ " 

"Have you no idea where she is?" 

" _No sir. It's most unusual. She has apparently left the building. She has appointments this afternoon. One in ten minutes' time._ " 

"Thank you, Roberts. Can you tell her to call me the instant she returns?" 

" _Yes, sir._ " 

By the time he finished this conversation, Chakotay was out on the concourse, heading for the transporter station. He was really worried now. 

* * *

  


Inspector Wallender of the Federation Police was a breezy man in his forties, but Chakotay was eyeing him with more than a little impatience. The man had been talking for hours to some distant person at Starfleet HQ, and he felt left out of the loop. No-one was telling him anything, and his frustration was growing by the second. 

Finally, he'd paced up and down long enough, and he took himself across the room, invading the man's space and slamming his hand on his terminal. 

"I want to know what's happening…" 

"Please be patient, Ambassador…we're doing everything…." 

"This is my wife and my son we're talking about here." 

"Yes, sir. Give me two minutes, and I'll come and fill you in." 

Chakotay glared at him. "Take a seat in my office," he said, waving his hand at a room to the left. "I'll be with you in a moment." 

Chakotay reluctantly accepted this and withdrew. He took himself into the office indicated, and dumped himself in frustration on the chair in front of the inspector's desk. He thought grimly that this was exactly where most witnesses sat when they were being ruthlessly interrogated. Perhaps they thought him a suspect. 

He swallowed. As every moment ticked by that Kathryn and Alex were missing, the more it looked as if something sinister was going on here. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Finally, the inspector came in and took the seat opposite. His face was grim. 

"I won't lie to you, Ambassador. We have to suspect the worst here…given the eminence of you and your wife. It looks increasingly likely to be a case of abduction." Chakotay gasped at this. "Your wife left work without explanation at around 13.30 following a call direct to her terminal. Her comm badge was found lying in a gutter three blocks away. We are currently scanning all data concerning any persons in the vicinity at the time. 

We have questioned the students at the academy, and it seems your son spoke to a blond woman in her late thirties just before he disappeared. His friends believe he knew who she was." The inspector paused for a moment, watching Chakotay carefully for any reaction. "She had some Borg implants." 

Chakotay's jaw dropped. 

"Then you know who she is?" continued Wallender. 

"Seven of Nine." 

"We have good reason to believe that's who it was." 

"I didn't think she was back on earth." 

"We've checked. It appears she arrived on a transport ten days ago. Since then she's covered her tracks." 

"Can't you scan for Borg technology? There can't be many ex-Borg on the planet." 

"Already on to it! You will realise Starfleet are taking this very seriously. Your wife is in possession of a significant amount of sensitive information. Her disappearance has huge security implications." 

Chakotay regarded the man solemnly. "This is personal." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"You must have done enough checking by now to know that I was married to Seven of Nine…" 

"For eighteen months, yes. I take it you didn't part amicably?" 

"It wasn't pleasant. These things never are. But at the time I thought she was as relieved to be out of it as I was. She certainly wasn't bitter when we divorced. I didn't make her happy. It was only several years into my second marriage that she began to exhibit signs of jealousy." 

"Have you seen her since?" 

"Once or twice." 

"Did you detect any ill feeling from her? Did she make any threats?" 

Chakotay looked down. "She's never made any threats as such. Over recent years her conversations became more vitriolic. She clearly blamed me for all her subsequent failed relationships. And she blamed Kathryn…the Admiral…for the break up of our relationship. She appeared to becoming more unstable recently. She was getting treatment though." 

"Do you know the name of her therapist?" 

"No, I'm afraid I don't." 

"Do you know the names of any of her subsequent lovers?" 

"Only two. I believe there were more." 

Wallender made a note of the two names. "Did any of them last?" 

"Not more than a couple of months to my knowledge. She found the relationship thing very difficult." 

"Your marriage was stormy?" 

"You could say that." 

"Care to go into specifics?" 

"Not really. I fail to see what bearing this has on the matter. Why aren't you out there looking for my wife and son?" 

"I assure you I have a lot of people out looking at this very moment. Look, Ambassador, the more you can tell us, the more it will help us to build up a psych. profile of the suspect." 

Chakotay sighed in resignation. "She became quite volatile after her emotional fail-safe device was removed. She suffered from huge emotional swings, and found it hard to deal with. She became a completely different person." 

"She was difficult to live with?" 

"Yes. She would find fault with every little thing. She demanded perfection in everything. Her standards were difficult to live up to." 

"In what way?" 

"Her standards of tidiness, cooking, time-keeping. She expected precision." 

"And in the bedroom?" 

Chakotay looked at the man darkly. He regarded the question as intrusive. "She wanted performance in the bedroom to be to her exact specification too. In short, minimal activity and as undemanding as possible. Quick, clean and ultimately unfulfilling. She did not enjoy the physical side of a relationship." 

"And to your knowledge did she continue to behave in such a manner with her later lovers?" 

"I cannot be sure, but I imagine that to be highly likely." 

"Do you believe she blamed you for her inability to sustain a relationship?" 

"Yes. She has said as much. And Kathryn for taking me away from her." 

"So you suppose her motive is revenge?" 

"Yes." 

"Did she ever make any threats?" 

"Never." 

"Were you having an affair with Kathryn Janeway while still married to Seven?" 

"No!" he said emphatically. "We met regularly for lunch, just as good friends. We had been very close for a long time…but nothing like that ever went on. However, she did object to my meeting Kathryn. It did cause a number of arguments. I could not at the time understand her jealousy, but with hindsight, I realise that she perhaps had more reason than I thought." 

"She sensed a strong connection between you and the Admiral?" 

"She'd have been stupid not to. Everybody knew it. The whole crew. We'd drawn very close. Seven years of very taxing command together. But nothing sexual happened between us until after the break up of my marriage. She had no reason for jealousy on that account." 

"She may not have seen it that way." 

"I suppose not. Hindsight is a clear window." 

"At the very least, she may have been envious of the ease and familiarity you had with the Admiral." 

"It's possible. She also had a close relationship with my wife while we were in the Delta Quadrant. Kathryn was her mentor, almost a mother-like figure to her. That waned after Seven and I married…and was gone completely by the time Kathryn and I married. I believe she felt that had been snatched from her too. She lost the support of Voyager's EMH, and he was also someone she depended on." 

"Voyager's EMH?" 

"Yes, the holographic Doctor. They have kept him deactivated since we've been home, despite my wife's best efforts to get him back." 

"It would seem your former wife struggled with a distinct sense of abandonment. I must get the psychoanalysts to take a look at this." 

"She spent a long time after our divorce with Tuvok on Vulcan, and that steadied her significantly." 

"Tuvok?" 

"Commander Tuvok. He was Voyager's second officer. Eventually he went back into space again." 

"Ah, yes! And what about your son? Did you ever sense any ill will towards your son?" continued Wallender. 

"No. Except she once said that he should have been hers. Except he couldn't have been. She wasn't capable of conceiving in the normal way. The Borg had seen to that." 

"She sounds like one bitter woman." 

There was a knock at the door, and a younger man stuck his head through. "Sir, we've managed to decrypt the message Admiral Janeway received just before she left. I thought you'd like to know straight away." 

"Patch it through to my terminal, Ewan." 

"Sir!" said the young man, disappearing. 

Wallender swivelled his terminal around to face Chakotay, and them came out from behind his desk to view it too. "I think you'd better see this. Maybe it'll mean something more to you than me." 

Chakotay nodded, pleased to be included at last in the investigation. 

It took a minute before the screen crackled with the recording. 

Seven's face appeared on the screen. She'd let herself go a bit. She'd filled out somewhat and was taking less care with her appearance than she used to, and she looked as if she was standing in some dingy warehouse. 

Ewan Peterkin slipped back into the room to join the viewers. 

" _Admiral Janeway!_ " said Seven, her voice dripping with disdain. 

" _Seven?_ " came Kathryn's response. " _Are you alright?_ " 

" _I am fine. I have something of yours._ " 

" _Oh?_ " 

" _Take a look!_ " Seven swung the camera around, and focused for a few seconds on a sleeping boy lying amongst a pile of sacks. 

Kathryn gasped. " _Alex?_ " 

The camera swung back to Seven. " _Yes._ " 

" _If you've done anything to harm him…_ " 

" _Relax, he is unharmed. For the moment. But you must get down here quickly, if you want to see him alive again._ " 

" _Where are you?_ " 

" _We are in the third warehouse west of the North 31st transport station. Knock four times on the main door. You come alone. You tell no-one, not even Chakotay. No police. If I detect anyone with you, if I suspect anything…anything,_ " she emphasised, " _I can have him beamed out of here instantly. You will never see him again. Do you understand?_ " 

Kathryn was presumably gaping at Seven wordlessly, for she didn't answer. 

" _Admiral Janeway, do you understand?_ " Seven repeated. 

" _Yes._ " 

" _Repeat my instructions._ " 

Kathryn did. 

" _Good. Now you have fifteen minutes to get here. Seven out._ " The face vanished. 

Ewan commented, "The call was logged at 13.24. Admiral Janeway left the building at 13.31. Scanning for her comm badge located it in the gutter outside that very warehouse ninety-five minutes later. A search of the warehouse has found some discarded hyposprays containing traces of a compound that would have rendered a human being unconscious and materials which could have been used as restraint. 

We've studied scans made of the area over the last few hours. Three human lifesigns beamed from that area to a docked shuttle at 14.08. One of them had a Borg signature encoded within the DNA. A female. The other two lifesigns were one male, one female. That is all we can decipher from the transport logs." 

"And the shuttle?" 

"Gone, sir. It left orbit at 14.23. Its path appears to be untraceable. Perhaps some illegal cloaking device. We suspect it was Romulan in origin." 

* * *

  


The force field burned her hand in a shower of golden sparks, as she knew it would. Kathryn had expected it. Still, it was worth a try. One never knew if some glitch in the power systems might render it ineffective. She had to be alert to every opportunity, however slim. Seven was alone, working the controls of a shuttle that would normally be commanded by three people. Although she didn't tire as easily as other people, she did tire. And if she was to remain vigilant at all times with her hostages, she wouldn't be able to regenerate. 

No, she and Alex should get as much rest as possible now, so that as time went by, they would be alert and ready if Seven slipped up. 

She rubbed at the sting in her fingers with her other hand and turned to let her gaze rest on her eleven year old son, his pale face watching her expectantly. She felt so proud of him. He was carrying himself calmly and bravely, just as she'd expect of a young man of his ancestry. But his eyes also registered his anxiety. 

She gave him a half-smile and came and sat next to him, resting her back on the bulkhead wall. She stretched out her left hand and covered his hand with hers. 

Alex leaned into her, dropping his head on her shoulder. 

"Have you hurt your hand?" 

She glanced down at her right hand quizzically, wriggling the fingers. 

"Not much. It's just a sting. It'll wear off in a minute." 

"Mom? Are we going to be assimilated?" 

"I won't lie to you. That is most likely Seven's intention. But we're not going to let her get away with it, are we?" 

"No." 

"Alex, we must get as much rest as possible, so that we can stay alert and vigilant. We have to been on the lookout for every tiny opportunity we have to turn the tables on Seven. She'll tire and she will make mistakes. But she's prepared well, so we will have to outwit her. I want you to watch everything she does, notice if she does anything differently, watch out for any sign that Starfleet are onto to us…and let me know quietly. Can you do that for me?" 

"Of course," said Alex, eager as a Starfleet cadet. 

"We may have a long wait. We'll have to be patient." 

"Is Seven really a bad person?" 

"No. I don't think so. Not deep down. When we got home from the Delta Quadrant, she showed every sign of becoming a well rounded considerate person. But since then, she's become much more emotionally unstable." 

"Then why does she want to hurt us?" 

"She's just angry. She blames your father and me for everything that's gone wrong in her life. She thinks I stole your father from her….it never occurred to her that she might have driven him away. She blames me for separating her from the Borg collective, and as for you…she's jealous as hell that we've got you." She gave her son an affectionate squeeze. "She's becoming very unbalanced, and we will have to be careful. Okay?" 

"Okay." 

She kissed him on the forehead. "And don't forget, your father will be doing everything he can to get us out of here. He's rescued me from far worse situations than this." 

* * *

  


Chakotay banged his fist furiously on the dresser. He had been pacing the apartment for hours. He hated the inactivity and the frustration. By nature, he was not a man to sit back and do nothing. Three days had gone by and Wallender had found nothing. Nothing. 

They had ships searching the Alpha Quadrant, but the universe was a huge place. Seven, his wife and son could be light years away by now, and he just knew that no-one was looking in the right place. The whole escapade had obviously been planned meticulously by Seven. 

He shook his head, tried to calm himself. Getting angry wasn't going to help. He reached out and touched a photograph of Alex, beaming happily on his first day at senior school. Fondly he traced the contours of the smiling face. He put the image down, and took up another…one of Kathryn and himself on their wedding day. Happiness shone from both faces. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and slumped onto the bed…their marriage bed…clutching the image to his chest and letting his thoughts wander. It had taken him eighteen months to persuade her to marry him. She'd said she didn't need the formality. Didn't need a document. She'd already had two failed engagements. It was a long time before he realised there was much more to it than that. He hadn't seen the depth of her hurt at first…the pain she felt because he'd turned his back on her in favour of Seven when they'd arrived home, the even greater damage he'd done by marrying Seven. When the depth of her pain had finally begun to dawn on him, it had taken months of painstaking nurture, a careful peeling away of the multiple layers of hurt before she'd finally agreed to his proposal. And by then she'd been four months pregnant with Alex. 

From that moment on, everything about their relationship had been truly wonderful. They'd had their spats, a few spectacular ones. They were two strong-minded people, but the making up had been just as spectacular, soldered by some enthusiastic and amazing love-making. There'd been times apart as well, when work took one or other…usually Kathryn…on some mission. But they knew only too well how to celebrate when reunited. 

The marriage had been just as brilliant as their friendship had been, and he'd never had a day's regret. Alex's birth had been the icing on the cake. He had become part of a wonderful family. But now, he felt he was being ripped apart with grief. The two people most dear to him in his life were gone, and he didn't know if he would ever see them alive again. 

And here he was, sitting on their bed, alone. He could still smell Kathryn's essence in the room. Her perfume, her scent. It had only been five days since they'd last made love in this very room, as passionately and vigorously as they had in those heady first few weeks together. He bit on his wrist to prevent himself choking away with emotion, then rose and replaced the image in its rightful place. He'd badly miscalculated the grief and resentment that had built in Seven over the years. No, his big regret was that he'd ever gotten involved with Seven in the first place. 

He opened a closet in the wall and took out his akoonah. He wouldn't give in to despair just yet. He simply wouldn't. His wife and his son needed him to stay strong. 

* * *

  


"Where is the nearest Borg vessel?" he asked Wallender the next morning. 

"I haven't the slightest idea." 

"Can you find out?" 

"I guess Starfleet could inform us…if you think it's important," the man said reluctantly. 

"Yes, I do think it's important. Seven is taking them to the Borg. She wants to be reassimilated, and she's taking them with her. She thinks that's the ultimate revenge on Kathryn and me." 

"How can you know that? We've had no further contact from her." 

"Let's just say I've had a hunch," Chakotay said firmly. He wasn't going to tell about his vision quest, where he'd watched Seven walking willingly, Alex and Kathryn under duress, heading for some unspeakable darkness. They were so far away, so out of reach, he feared that he couldn't get to them in time. He called out to them. Maybe they'd heard. For just a second Kathryn had turned and looked in his direction. 

Nearer to him, the silver wolf had been looking at him dolefully. Her eyes seemed to challenge him. What are you going to do about this? 

Then he'd looked back into the distance. His wife and son, together with their tormentor, had nearly disappeared. The darkness had nearly swallowed them. And then his blood had run cold, as he recognised the darkness for what it was. A Borg cube. 

Chakotay had no intention of explaining spirit guides to a distinctly unreceptive audience. He certainly had Wallender pinned down as a sceptic. "A very strong hunch," he added to his earlier comment. 

Half an hour later, they had reports that three Borg cubes had been spotted in the Beta Quadrant two weeks earlier. The area in question was about ten days from earth, and there were no Starfleet vessels in the vicinity. Wallender was very reluctant to request a change of search area, but eventually Chakotay's persistence paid off. 

One Starfleet vessel would be diverted to the region when it had finished with some negotiations with the Romulans. It would make it there in a fortnight. 

But Chakotay knew that would be too late. His wife and son would have vanished in a Borg cube long before then. 

He exited Wallender's office as quickly as he could manage, and put in calls to Tom and B'Elanna, Mike Ayala and several other ex-Maquis. He needed all the help he could get. 

* * *

  


It was 03.00 hours, by the time he and B'Elanna were skirting their way silently along a Starfleet corridor. The place was deserted, but they still knew they had to be careful. They had used every trick in the book to bypass security, avoid the scanners and evade the guards. They slunk their way through the dim light and keyed in access codes to a room, ones they had stolen by hacking the system earlier. Entering the darkness, they declined to increase the risk by activating the lights. Instead they simultaneously switched on their wrist-torches, and shone them round the room at a disturbingly large array of cabinets. 

"Any ideas where it will be?" asked B'Elanna. 

"Not a clue," he admitted. "For all we know, this might not be the right room anymore." 

"So where do we start?" 

"Whichever cabinet looks to have the greatest security," he said, and as they swung the beams around a huge solid door with intricate locking mechanisms materialised before their eyes. "I'd say right here." 

"Right," she responded, moving across the room and lowering the beam for discretion. "Hope you can still pick a few locks." 

"So do I." 

Between them, it took thirty minutes to get the door to swing open. Inside were five drawers which slid out. They started with the top one, but drew a blank. They were into the third one down, before they saw it. Chakotay picked it up delicately, and blew off a little dust. It had lain in this drawer for over thirteen years. 

"We must shut the door. I don't want anyone to notice anything is missing here," said Chakotay. 

B'Elanna nodded. "Does it still work?" 

"One way to find out." 

B'Elanna took it from Chakotay, and prodded it with her sensor. 

Suddenly, something mushroomed in front of them. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency," said the EMH. 

"Doc! It's good to see you!" said both of the conspirators. 

"There's no time to explain. We need to get out of here. We can't beam out from inside the building…we need to get outside beyond the shielding as quickly as possible," added Chakotay. 

* * *

  


Kathryn made sure Alex was deeply asleep, before she risked attempting anything other than a cursory conversation with Seven. The boy had showed amazing fortitude, and she was so very proud of him. Even so, she did not wish him to be party to every serious thought that might be going through her head. 

"You can't seriously want to risk being reassimilated, just to make us suffer," she asked the former drone, as she tended some of the consoles near the holding cell. 

"You misunderstand," said Seven haughtily. "I want to be reassimilated. I do not want to hurt anymore. I do not want to feel." 

"I can't believe that. You had come such a long way. When we got home, you were a happy well adjusted woman." 

"It was an illusion. You never warned me. You and the Doctor. You never warned me I could never be fully human." 

"You are fully human. Joy and sadness are all part of what being human is about." 

"But I could never have a relationship. I could never make it work. And when I tried…you stole it from me." 

"I didn't steal it from you. I know Chakotay tried very hard to make it work. We talked a lot, I know, but much of it was how to make things better for you…" 

"You are wasting your strength. I suggest you put your efforts into contemplating your fate." 

"Seven, you don't have to be in a relationship with a man to be happy. You have friends, a successful career…don't throw it all away over this." 

"I do not consider that I am throwing anything away, only regaining something that has been lost to me." 

"Are you clear in your mind that this is what you want? Are you prepared to take innocent people with you to share your fate?" 

Seven threw Kathryn a cold glare. "You are not innocent." 

"But Alex is. Leave him out of this. This is between you and me. He's only eleven." 

"And I was only six." 

"This has nothing to do with him." 

"No. But I want Chakotay to suffer." 

"Why, Seven? He did nothing wrong. He tried hard to make your marriage work, I know he did." 

"He made certain concessions, yes. But he did not do the one thing I most required of him. He did not even recognise his own failing." 

"Oh?" 

"He did not stop loving you." 

There was no answer to that. 

* * *

  


Chakotay eyed his loyal friends as they sat around the table, waiting for him to outline his plan. He was grateful so many of them were prepared to risk their lives on such a dangerous mission, out of loyalty to him and love of their former Captain, his wife. His eyes rested on the mature, yet still attractive features of Mike Ayala. He knew deep down, that Ayala had always had a secret crush on his wife, the reason the man had not hesitated for a second in coming on this fool's errand. Dalby, Doyle, Robertson, Murphy…all ex-Maquis were gazing back at him expectantly. Tom Paris, usually at the helm, was leaning back in his chair, with an assumed nonchalance that Chakotay knew was deceptive. Maybe, for once, his thoughts were with his wife and family still on earth. There had been no question of B'Elanna leaving the children to join the mission. Even if she had considered it, Chakotay would have refused her help. The Doctor, looking exactly as he had on Voyager, made up the party, leaning forward attentively with his elbows on the table and his fingers interlaced in front of him. 

It crossed Chakotay's mind that they were all a lot older now. Were these older men up to the task? It had been over twenty years since their Maquis days, as evidenced by the spattering of grey hairs around the table. 

He drew a deep breath. They simply had to be. They were all he had. 

They were on a small sleek cruiser they had hired. It had rapidly closed the distance on Seven and her hostages, or at least the sector of space where Chakotay had the gut feeling they'd be. Seven may have had the latest in stealth technology on her own shuttle, but fortunately for her pursuers, she had paid for it with lack of speed. 

"I have to inform you that our sensors have picked up spatial disturbance consistent with the wake of a type 4 Romulan cruiser two light years off the port bow. The vessel is heavily cloaked, and scanners are unable to penetrate their shields. We have no idea who or what is inside, but my gut feeling is that they're there…and they're alive." 

There were nods of acceptance. 

"We are still two days away from the Borg cube, which I believe is their intended destination. Fortunately, there only appears to be one Borg vessel in the vicinity. We must sit tight until they arrive. They will be forced to de-cloak and lower shields before beaming onto the cube." 

Chakotay immediately sensed a heightening of tension around the table. Most had envisaged a difficult encounter with an angry Seven of Nine. The thought of taking on a whole community of Borg was somewhat more daunting. 

"Shouldn't we take them out now? Do the job long before we get anywhere near the Borg cube?" asked Dalby, putting into words what many were thinking. 

"For one, we will have a hard job targeting an invisible vessel, although we could take an educated guess. There's no way it would be quick and clean, so all we might achieve is to alert them to our presence. Mike and I have spent some time studying the schematics of vessels of the type we believe we are chasing. The cloaking device could be disabled, but the shields are impenetrable. Even with the cloak down, we could not scan inside, let alone beam anyone in or out of the shuttle. Then assuming we got that far, Seven could injure one of the hostages before we had a chance to disarm her. Mike, do you agree?" 

Mike looked at him unemotionally. "One hundred percent." 

"Then we wait till they lower shields and then transport aboard?" said another voice. 

"No. They could disappear before we even materialise. No. We transport onto the Borg vessel the instant the shields come down and await their arrival. We need to be two steps ahead of Seven. Ideally, we would be waiting in the assimilation chamber when she gets there." 

"What's our edge?" asked Tom. "Deliver a pathogen? Take out some communication nodes? Order them to sleep?" 

"No. All things that have been done before. They'll be prepared for it. They've had years to adapt to our previous tactics. No, we keep it simple. I'm counting on their ignoring us to start with. They won't be interested in us. They have far more interesting prizes on the other vessel. To them, they are welcoming Seven of Nine home. We know the queen exhibits a longing to have her back, and her sentiment naturally will have permeated the collective. As to my wife, she is well known to them. They've tasted her, so to speak, in the past. Their appetite is whetted. She's an Admiral, a woman with vast amounts of desirable information on the Federation. A magnificent trophy for them. I believe my son is the only one of the trio that would be of little interest to them. 

We beam a team onto the Borg vessel at the earliest opportunity…the timing will be crucial. The away team will have to be ready and waiting. We'll need the transporters at the ready and be constantly monitoring for any fluctuation in the shields. Both vessels will have to drop shields for the transport and that's our window of opportunity. We need to predict where they are going to arrive on the cube as best we can, and transport in as close in location as possible. I need a couple of men to pour over any information we can find on the layout of Borg vessels, so we can take our best guess at it. 

We have three humans to extricate, two of whom will come willingly given a chance at freedom. I'm guessing that we will initially encounter a limited number of Borg. The Doctor is going to issue us with a number of hyposprays that should render a drone unconscious. If we do it right, give them no chance to react to what we're doing, I hope we won't be noticed too quickly. They're used to minds leaving the collective consciousness to regenerate. We will have to get up close and personal. We will arm ourselves with phasers and photon grenades. It's small scale, I know, but I am confident it will be sufficient. We will also have to take the shields back down to beam out. A few well placed shots from our ship should do it. I know this is a huge gamble. I'm asking you to do something that will mean putting your lives at considerable risk, and I will understand if any of you want to back out now. If need be, I will go in alone, but in no way is it my intention that anyone who volunteers be left behind on the cube. We are not in the business of exchanging one victim for another. The nearest Federation ship is still four days away. We can't count on them. There is no way they are going to get here in time." 

"I'm with you, boss," said Mike. "You'll not be alone." 

"Thank you," said Chakotay gratefully, his eyes betraying more sentiment than his words. He knew Mike wouldn't let him down. The man was still deep and brooding, but he knew the abiding affection he had for Kathryn and the profound sense of loyalty he had for himself. He was still darkly handsome, not unlike Chakotay in his features and personality. It had crossed his mind more than once that if Mike hadn't been so principled while he channelled so much time and effort into trying to salvage his ultimately unsalvageable marriage when they'd first gotten home, he might easily have lost Kathryn to him. 

"Me too," said Tom. Chakotay turned his eyes to the bright-eyed Commander Paris, face full of enthusiasm. 

"I need you at the helm, Tom. You're going to have to get us out of here, quick smart. Dalby, I'm going to need you at tactical. You're going to be responsible for targeting the shield emitters, bringing down the shields at exactly the right moments, and beaming us in and out successfully." Dalby nodded. 

"I'm in too," said the Doctor. "At least they can't assimilate me." 

"Yeah, Doc? Your photons can explode into space just like any of the rest of us," reminded Tom. 

"That is true, but I am prepared to risk my photons for the well-being of the Captain." 

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll take you, if I'm short handed. But I'd rather you remained here ready to work your usual miracle, if we end up extricating them rather later than we hope. If things don't go to plan, you may be needed to remove Borg implants. Doyle?" 

"I'm in." 

"So am I," said Robertson. 

"Good." 

"Are four enough?" asked someone. 

"We cannot risk any more. I told you. We keep this simple. We have only three humans to extricate. A four man team should be sufficient, and if we take any more we'll appear threatening from the get go and the drones will be less likely to ignore us. But the crux of the matter is that we'll probably only have a narrow window for the beam out. It's going to pushing it to get the transporters of this vessel to handle seven in one go….They're only designed for five." 

"Sir, couldn't we beam someone over to the other ship, after the targets have beamed on to the cube, and use it to assist in our escape. Then we would have two vessels to fire at the shield emitters. We'd have a better chance of taking them out," suggested Doyle. "And we'd have two sets of transporters for the escape." 

Chakotay's eyes swept around the table, and he saw that this idea had gained universal approval. "Great idea. Let's hope they don't rig the cloak to re-engage itself. See to it, Murphy. That'll be your task. Take another man with you," he said. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Are there any further questions?" 

"Yes," asked the Doctor. "May I clarify our position regarding Seven of Nine? Our plan is to attempt to retrieve her as well as the Cap…Admiral and your son?" 

"My orders are to retrieve Seven, if at all possible. I am happy to consider restraining her or rendering her unconscious and bringing her involuntarily with us. However, if she proves an obstacle to the safe recovery of my wife and son, she is to be considered expendable." Around the table there were a number of nods. If the Doctor didn't exactly like these orders, he understood that they were the best he could hope for. 

"And afterwards?" 

"She is to be arrested on the charge of kidnapping and taken into custody," he said snappily. Any vestige of sympathy for the unhappy woman was gone from his voice. The Doctor knew this might be his battle to fight, but clearly that argument would have to wait till later. "Anything else?" continued Chakotay. This time he was met with silence. "Good. Gentlemen, I believe we have the beginnings of a plan." 

* * *

  


The four members of the away team materialised on the Borg cube. Immediately, all four took out their scanners to search for human lifesigns. 

"Damn," said Chakotay, as he realised that they were farther away from their target than they'd bargained for. They certainly wouldn't be two steps ahead of Seven here. He spent a moment checking communications with the ship. Dalby confirmed that the vessel had shields back to maximum. It was exactly to be expected. 

"Four blocks to the right and ten floors down," remarked Doyle. 

Chakotay nodded, and began to lead the way. They passed a number of drones, and all four of them held their breath as they waited to see if they responded in any way. So far they had been ignored, and it looked as if they could reach their destination unhindered, so long as they didn't antagonise the drones in any way. 

The dark greenish light lent a sinister air to their surroundings. It wasn't unfamiliar to them. None of them had been aboard a Borg vessel before, but as Starfleet officers they'd all had to undertake tactical training in holographic mock-ups. They passed along a number of corridors, took several turns, consulting their scanners regularly. It would be easy to lose a sense of direction: one alley looked much the same as the next. Long corridors of pipes and nodes. Long lines of access panels and work-stations. Regeneration alcoves in their hundreds, many with drones clamped into them. Pale and immobile, deathly still, the sleeping humanoids appeared to have no vestige of life in them. It was like seeing row upon row of corpses, all waiting to be woken from the grave, instantly ready to strike a man down and drag him into the very hell they'd come from. 

Finally they found a vertical conduit, a set of rungs protruding from a wall at the rear. Looking down, the ladder went on seemingly forever into some dark unimaginable abyss. Chakotay knew that if he'd looked up, he would see almost the same vision, but he declined to do so. He straightened his back. This was no time for hesitation. If he showed any sign of fear, the men behind him would sense it immediately. He leaned across the chasm and grabbed the rails firmly with both hands, then stepped across the void. Quickly and carefully, he began to descend, counting furiously. Ten levels…there was no way he wanted to stop to check his tricorder, which would necessitate loosening one hand from the ladder. Ninety rungs lower, he stepped back onto firm metal plating, and was relieved to observe that he hadn't misjudged their exit point. Doyle stepped off behind him, panting from exertion, and more than a little relief sounding in the slight laughter that accompanied his breathing. Then Robertson and finally Ayala joined them. Mike's eyes looked questioningly at Chakotay, who turned immediately. "This way," ordered Chakotay. They had not gone far when they heard voices. They immediately went into stealth mode, in order to approach with more caution, using the hyposprays to silently down a few drones within the vicinity. 

They began to make out the familiarity of some of the voices. Chakotay's heart began to pound, as he drew nearer to the two people he loved more than life itself. Two people, he'd begun to wonder whether he'd ever see again. This was no time to pause and reflect. They had a job to do. 

"Janeway!" said some drawling sneer, "We remember you. You were almost part of us…once. What a pleasure it is to have you here with us again." 

"You don't need the boy," rang Kathryn's voice. "Send him back, and I'll come willingly." 

"You do not seem to understand…you have no choice in the matter. We will have you…willing or not. The Borg are not to be bargained with." 

Chakotay and Doyle took up positions either side of the gateway into the chamber where the targets were standing. With a nod of the head, he indicated that Ayala and Robertson take up positions at the second exit at the far end of the chamber. He peered in cautiously and saw three drones together with Seven, who was also to be considered hostile, staring at his wife and son, both of whom had their hands tied behind their backs. Kathryn was looking them straight in the eye, proud and defiant. Alex was a little behind his mother, watching on in terrible fascination. His eyes registered a mixture of awe and horror. 

A flick of a thumb at the gate on the far side told Chakotay that the other half of his team were now in position. 

"I'm the one you want. And you have Seven. Let him go." 

"Enough of this. You are wasting your strength," responded the drone nearest Chakotay, in the same drawling sexless voice. "Resistance is futile." Then it took a decisive step forward and lunged at Kathryn's neck, sending assimilation tubules into her veins. Kathryn slumped as the tubules were withdrawn, and the drone took a step backwards with a look of satisfaction on its face. Kathryn, on her knees now, looked up still defiant, but Borg implants were already sprouting on the side of her face. The drone bent down and cut through the bindings on Kathryn's arms. As it did so, Chakotay fired at it, and within seconds, Ayala and Robertson downed the other two drones in the room. Kathryn responded by throwing herself over Alex. 

Seven took a step forward, but Robertson quickly had a phaser to her ear. 

Chakotay bent and lifted Kathryn from the floor, then Alex. Quickly, he enfolded them both in his arms, while Mike looked on suppressing his envy. 

"Are you alright?" asked Chakotay. 

"We will be…as soon as you get us out of here," confessed Kathryn. "See, Alex, I told you your father would come." 

"Daddy!" cried Alex with a sob. 

"We're going to get you out of here, okay?" Chakotay spoke soothingly to his son. 

"You are too late," said Seven haughtily. "Janeway is already one of us." But even as she said it, the puzzlement was beginning to show on her face. 

"Not yet I'm not," said Kathryn, stepping out of her husband's arms. As she moved away, Chakotay bent to free Alex from his bonds. 

Ayala flipped his communicator to contact their ship. "Dalby, we're going to need that transportation window any second now." 

" _Yes, sir_ ," snapped Dalby. " _Keep the comm line open_." 

"How is it possible?" asked a wide-eyed Seven. 

Kathryn stepped up to her and looked her in the eye. "You clearly didn't do your homework, Seven. I never had the neural suppressant removed from the last time I made a visit to a Borg cube. It is enough to buy me a few hours of rational thought. Oh, it gives me a headache now and again, but I always believed it might save me from an even bigger one sometime." 

Seven merely gazed back, mouth open in realisation. 

Chakotay herded the group through the far gateway and into the next chamber to await rescue, Robertson pushing Seven in front first. As they passed through the gateway, he turned to cover their rear. Hundreds of drones would be homing in on them very soon. 

"Dalby?" came Mike's voice. "How are you doing with the shields?" 

" _Taking longer than we thought. We're having to dodge some serious firepower here. Have you in a moment._ " 

At that moment, phaser fire came from the corridor at the far end of the chamber, and immediately Doyle and Ayala began to return fire. Kathryn collected the chord that had been around Alex and began to tie Seven's hands with it, thus freeing up Robertson to join in the fray. Satisfied she had Seven secured, she nodded to Alex to come over. 

"Watch her. If she so much as moves, give her a damn good kick." 

"Yes, mom." 

"I'm so proud of you, you know," she told him, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze. 

Kathryn rose and with Robertson went to join Chakotay, who now was coming under attack from his side of the chamber. 

"Got another phaser?" 

Chakotay nodded, as she took one from his utility belt. 

"I trust these are on a rotating frequency." 

"Dalby?" asked Mike. 

" _Nearly there. Shields are fluctuating. One more hit ought to do it._ " 

Blinding beams of light split through the air, the noise suddenly deafening. At their end, Doyle and Ayala were facing formidable opposition. For every drone they downed, two or three more were coming in from behind. Doyle yelped as he was hit in the shin, but barely faltered in his task. 

At their end, Chakotay, Robertson and Kathryn were having better success with fewer reinforcement drones, so Chakotay tipped his head to send Robertson the other way. Another thirty seconds of phaser fire and grenade attacks, and they knew they were only just managing to keep the Borg at bay. Before long the balance of numbers would tip everything in favour of their nemesis. They needed that beam out...and fast! 

Kathryn was suddenly kicked backwards with a hit on her hand and shoulder. Her phaser went flying through the air and she fell back, spread-eagled by the wall. 

"Mom?" said Alex anxiously, turning slightly towards her, very alarmed now at the tubes which seemed to be sprouting from the back of his mother's neck and the hair that seemed to falling out in great clumps. 

It was all the chance Seven needed. She bolted forward, hurtling past Chakotay towards the drones waiting to welcome her. 

Her movement precipitated a cessation in the firing which allowed the sound of her footsteps clattering on the metal plating to echo in the eerie silence. 

"Seven?" Chakotay called after her. "You don't have to go to them…" 

She hesitated and turned, looking back at him. 

"I am home." 

"Your home is with us." 

"What you call home would mean prison for me," she spat. 

"It might not have to be like that…Isn't this worse than a prison?" 

"This is my home," she repeated, taking another step towards the drones. 

"Seven?" pleaded Chakotay. 

" _Seven!_ " another voice broke in over the ether. This one firm and decisive. It was the Doctor's. " _Come home._ " 

Seven turned again, wide-eyed. She hadn't heard that voice in thirteen years. "Doctor?" Behind her the drones were advancing, almost reaching her. If she hadn't turned, hadn't hesitated, she would have been lost before the transporter beam could snare her. 

" _Energize!_ " cried Dalby, and the haze swallowed them. 

* * *

  


Chakotay yelled as soon as they materialized. "Tom, get us out of here!" 

"Aye, Captain," came Tom's voice and the familiar lurch of acceleration hit them. 

"Mom!" yelped Alex, panic threading his voice. 

Chakotay turned and just caught Kathryn as she collapsed in his arms, the fight against the Borg assault on her already fragile body beginning to take its toll. As he strode forward with her limp body in his arms, he exclaimed, "Doctor, medical emergency! Meet us in the medical bay immediately." He pushed past Robertson and a scowling, slightly bewildered Seven and nodded towards them both. "Get her sedated. I don't want her causing any more trouble." 

"Aye sir," said Robertson, grabbing one of his hyposprays. 

It wasn't far to the medical bay, this being a rather small ship, and he lay Kathryn on the bio-bed with a huge sense of relief. Alex was right behind him, pale and anxious. The Doctor was already waiting for them, medical scanner at the ready. He scanned the patient with a look of concentration on his face. 

"Hmph! She shouldn't be doing this at her age." 

"Tell me something I don't know," said Chakotay. 

"Well, I can repair the damage. Remove the implants, just as I did before. It'll take her somewhat longer to get over it this time, and she's bound to be sore for quite a while. I'll get started, shall I?" 

"Please do," he said, putting his arm around Alex's shoulder and turning towards the exit. "Come on son," he said. "Let's leave the Doc to do his work. Your mom's going to be just fine in a few days." 

"Dad, she looks so…scary." 

"She'll soon look like her old self, I promise you. Don't fret about it. I've seen her like this before." 

"You have? When was that?" 

* * *

  


They left the Doctor with his patient, and Chakotay spent some time talking to his son. Afterwards, he left Alex with a meal and went to check on the current situation. The Borg cube had pursued them only briefly, their speed and evasive manoeuvres succeeding in throwing them off quite quickly. Murphy, together with Ayala and Doyle, who had beamed onto the second ship, had also succeeded in escaping despite their inferior speed. They had used the cloaking technology to evade the clutches of the Borg. When Chakotay deemed them to be at a safe distance, he arranged a rendezvous with the second vessel and had Seven, now unconscious, transported over there to be detained under Ayala's watchful eye. Then they set course for the nearest Federation vessel, having already reported their current status to Starfleet. 

After a couple of hours the Doctor declared his surgery to have been a complete success, and that his patient was now sleeping. Finally, Chakotay could breathe a sigh of relief. 

* * *

  


The following day, Chakotay and Alex spent several hours talking with Kathryn in the medical bay. 

Kathryn gave the appearance of very much being her old self, but Chakotay knew she was struggling with quite a lot of pain. Moving was proving very uncomfortable for her, but she accepted it stoically. Chakotay knew that some of it was a front put on for Alex' sake. 

Alex finally left the two of them alone, apart from the Doctor, who was busying himself in the background. He spent some time reassuring her that Alex was bearing up well, particularly now he had seen that his mother was well on the road to recovery. 

"He was so brave, Chakotay...it was so scary for him and he faced it all so calmly." 

"Well just take a look at who his parents are. It's some heritage he's got there. The Janeways are made of tough mettle." 

"So are the Chakotays of this world." They smiled at each other. 

"He fancied himself as a first year cadet apparently." 

"Oh, I know...unfortunately." 

"I thought I'd lost you," said Chakotay with a lump in his throat. 

"I know." 

"I couldn't have borne it. I think I'd have stayed on that cube just to be near you both." 

"Ever the gallant knight. I wasn't at all surprised you came galloping after us, risking life and limb to get us home." 

"You know, the Fed. Police were looking in all the wrong places. Completely messed the investigation up. Didn't believe a word I was saying, when I told them I knew where she was taking you." 

"How did you know where she was taking us?" asked Kathryn curiously. 

"A hunch." Kathryn looked at him sceptically. "Okay, a bit more than a hunch, actually. A vision quest." 

"Oh. I see." She was very used to the faith her husband put in his vision quests. 

"This is all my fault. I should have realised how screwed up Seven was. She must have been so jealous of what we've got. I should have known. I should have been able to protect you both." 

"This is not your fault. We've all let her down in some way. And no-one could have predicted she would act with this much hatred." 

"Guess not." He paused, still regretful of the mistakes he had made. "But if I'd never gotten involved with her in the first place…." 

"Chakotay, stop beating yourself up about this. You can't change the past…well not very often anyway. You need an Admiral with a Klingon chrono-deflector to do that." 

He smiled, appreciating the joke. "I love you, you know. More than I can ever tell you." 

She smiled in response. "I love you too." He leaned down and kissed her…gently now, but letting his tongue reach into her mouth to savour the feeling, mindful all over again just what a privilege it was to be free to do so, to have her here again within reach. Then, as he drew back, he sucked her lower lip between his lips and tenderly lingered over the release, as if reluctant to let it go. 

"Can't wait to get you home," he whispered quietly, "into our own bed….and make sweet, sweet love to you." 

"Mmm hmm. But you'll have to be careful with me. Those spinal clamps cause havoc for weeks…" 

"Oh, I can be gentle," he said, kissing her again. "And I can get very creative too." 

"Mmm," she responded, enjoying the warm feelings his lips were eliciting. "Don't I know it? And I love it when you do." 

"Ahem," interrupted the Doctor. "If you two could restrain yourselves for a moment, there's something I want to talk to you about." 

Kathryn sank back into the pillows with a weary sigh, and Chakotay shifted himself to perch on her bed. 

"I want to ask permission to take Seven away with me…in the other vessel." 

"What?" cried Kathryn. 

"Out of the question. She's to face the music for what she did," added Chakotay firmly. 

"No, I know you're angry with her, and your reactions are rather too emotional just now, but please hear me out and try to be objective." When they didn't interrupt this time, he continued, "I'll take her far away. Maybe head off for the Delta Quadrant. You need never see or hear from either of us again. I'll make sure she never comes near sector 001." 

"You can't ensure that," said Kathryn. "She could deactivate you at the slightest whim." 

"I've thought of that. I'm sure B'Elanna can send instructions on a way to give me complete autonomy on my deactivation processes. And I can keep my mobile emitter…um…where she can't get at it easily. I'll keep her sedated until we're so far away she'd have considerable difficulty in making it back to earth. Risk a few transient wormholes, skirt a few quantum singularities. I have a few emergency command subroutines to call on, after all. We could rig helm control to respond only to my input. If I feel she's in any way a danger to you or anyone else, I'll take her back to the Borg." 

He watched them expectantly, but their faces still showed a high degree of scepticism. "Come on," he continued. "What have I got to lose? You know I'd only be deactivated and locked in some dusty cupboard, if I go back to the Alpha Quadrant. I've read the files." Kathryn raised an eyebrow at this. "And she'll face prison…probably for the rest of her life." 

He paused, and still they didn't answer. "I love her, you know. She's had a raw deal since she got home. She needed much more support than she got." Both Kathryn and Chakotay lowered their gazes at this. It was something they had both felt guilt about, at least they had before recent events. 

Kathryn picked an imaginary thread from the bedcover. "She did, I agree. And if we'd been there for her, if we hadn't been so engrossed in our own happiness...and if you hadn't been deactivated, things might have been very different. She always benefited so much from your counsel. Things between the three of us became, well…complicated." 

"I know," said the Doctor. "I read those files too. Your behaviour towards her isn't beyond reproach. Give me a chance to make things right for her. If you're worried about the police, then we can stage a little coup over on the other ship. As I said, I have nothing to lose." 

Kathryn threw her head back onto the pillow again, and her eyes met Chakotay's uncertainly. His eyes still showed gritty resolve. "I must be crazy to consider this," she said. 

"No, Kathryn. We can't take the risk. She deserves to be held to account for this," Chakotay answered. 

"Does she? We screwed her up pretty rotten." 

"Maybe we did, but nothing we did justifies the way she's treated you and Alex…" 

"No, but I think she deserves a break. And I think the Doctor has earned our trust." 

Chakotay looked deep into his wife's eyes. He didn't answer her. Her mind had been made up, and once Kathryn Janeway makes up her mind, there's no changing it. If her husband knew one thing about her, that was it. 

* * *

  


_Epilogue_  
_Several weeks later and a very long way from earth, where the Janeway family were now safely returned to their home._

  


"Where am I?" asked Seven, stirring as her mind tried hard to focus. Looming over her was a familiar face from the past, one that she, truth be told, was rather pleased to see. 

"A long way from where you were," said the Doctor gently, an empty hypospray in his hand. "How are you feeling?" 

"My head aches. This is not a Borg vessel." 

"No, it isn't. You were on one quite recently. Do you remember?" 

"Yes, I wanted to go home." 

"You are home, Seven. This is where you belong. You didn't really want to be there." 

"Didn't I?" said Seven vaguely. 

"And you have Kathryn Janeway to thank for not being on your way to a prison at this very moment." 

"Kathryn Janeway? Is she here?" There was the slightest hint of alarm in her voice. She had a vague sense that she ought to be wary of Kathryn Janeway. Somehow, she knew she had done something to annoy her former mentor. 

"No. It's just you and me now. We have a long journey ahead of us. But we'll continue our social lessons while we travel. How does that sound?" 

"It sounds acceptable," she said, and for some reason it did. She'd really missed the Doctor over the years, and she was very grateful for his attention right now. Unaccountably, she felt as if some huge burden was lifting from her shoulders. 

"When you feel well enough." 

"Thank-you, Doctor," said Seven, sitting up. 

"We'll be doing the advanced course," he told her in a rather pleased tone. "Lesson one will be dealing with unresolved anger and how not to hurt the people who care about you." 

"There are no people who care about me." 

"Seven?" he replied, lifting his eyes compassionately. "That's where you couldn't be more mistaken." 


End file.
